


sweet as a rose

by lognrithm



Category: Shovel Knight
Genre: Gen, vibe checked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22382755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lognrithm/pseuds/lognrithm
Summary: Propeller Knight worries for his crew; they are anxious, when given instructions by their boss' boss. He decides that the best way to resolve this is to head in and confront her directly, without a plan at all.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	sweet as a rose

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble about Discord RP shenanigans. Might write a part 2 if people like this.

“Enchantress! A word, please!”

Soaring through the wretched tower, towards the woman at its center, Propeller came to a halted hover in the air; for all that she was cruel and callous, he knew her to be someone who was willing to at the very least consider a discussion with her loyal subjects. After all, wasn’t everyone in power as polite as him when it comes to speaking with their comrades? Certainly so!

She didn’t look up from her seemingly gentle hands, weaving threads of wretched magic the likes of which the world had once forgotten. “Speak, Propeller Knight.”

“Ah…”

He paused, adjusting his scarf anxiously. Perhaps this was… not such a brilliant idea, no, not as much as he initially believed it to be. “May I… ask you something? It’s simple and beneficial to you, I promise.”

“...go on.”

_Damn it. She unnerves me so…_  
The dim room, lit occasionally only by flashes of lightning far in the distance, felt all too oppressive to someone used to the freedom of the sky. This tower, though rising high into the clouds, did not afford him the same liberties; the stagnant air filled his lungs with a heaviness that might as well have tripled the amount of gravity he was fighting against here. 

Completely and utterly helpless; without his wits, he would be a dead man. If he chose his words carefully, perhaps he may remain a jester in her court; a laughingstock for all that once knew him, but alive.  
_I should have thought this through…!_

“I-” He coughed, regretting the terribly weak start to this. Propeller could nearly sense her raising an eyebrow, yet she did not turn her head. “...The fleet you have given me…”

“Is there an issue with it?”

“No.” He balled his hands into tight fists, feeling his nails dig through the leather, and maintained a confident stance as best he could. “...My crew, from before our lovely little Order began its conquest, fear the newcomers. They say that the lot makes them scared to work, because of how ruthless they tend to be. We have always been pirates, but we are a bit merciful. The.. violence.. Lowers morale, no?”

She was silent, raising a hand and twirling a finger. “And?”

“...If I may be inclined to ask, is there a way to lessen the amount of battles we must take part in? We reign supreme over the skies; there are no others left to challenge us, not that I had rivals in the first place.” 

Although she made no immediate response, he felt his mistake immediately; the air got heavier, weighing down on him like a guilty conscience or too much alcohol. Dizzy, he was so terribly dizzy.. holding close to the wall hardly helped at all, and he felt utterly lost. Where was the entrance to this wretched tower, where was the exit? Who was this woman he had pledged his life and loyalty to? What had he gotten himself into, and why didn’t he think it through at all?

“Your willingness to speak your mind is.. Admirable, I suppose.” She finally turned her head, the gentle, impartial look betraying the emotion stewing under the surface; it was one she couldn’t determine, for she never could determine what drove her to do as she pleased. Desire to rule? Desire to harm? Desire, desire, _desire-_ it was the word that came to her mind, but in all honesty, it had been ages since she could hear her own thoughts coherently. “You are a brave man, with a good crew.”

Underneath his helmet, he smiled,. _I’m getting through…!_

“But I do not tolerate weakness in my order. If I must lend you some of my own to make sure you realize, then I’ll do so.” She snapped her sickly green fingers as a ball of magenta flame spiralled into existence, and turned towards Propeller without a change in her expression. 

The projectile slammed into him and sent him flying further into the brick wall he clung to so dearly, knocking the weighty air out of his lungs and filling them with new life; such an energy, so vibrant and befitting of a man of his nature, but it felt very, very wrong. He should not feel so weightless. He shouldn’t.. See what he…

…

Waking up outside of the Tower, clutching his chest, he rose on shaky feet to the sound of a ship above. An anchor slammed to the ground beside him, and far above, a Hover Meanie waved her arm and pointed to it. “C’mon, boss, climb! We were waiting for you, but you went and took a nap!”

He nodded and gave her a thumbs up as he leapt onto the chain, but the blood running onto his gloves was rather.. Peculiar. The anchor began to rise, and he clung to it for dear life, as his mind began to race.

The blood, he realized, smelled sweet as a rose.

And his face was covered in it, underneath that gorgeously gilded helmet.

Oh, what had happened, in that wretched tower? The dull aches left him with guesses, but no answers, and he dreaded to solve the mystery himself.

_It could wait,_ he thought, _until I gather my bearings and soar._

It could very well wait.


End file.
